Trench Warfare
by aremat
Summary: He's fighting a war with himself. [Jusitn Bieber]


Sometimes Justin Bieber wondered why he felt such relief when a joint pressed itself between his lips, or when the tips of his nubby fingers, which he bites way too often, touched the back of his throat. Complete bliss filled him each time as he performed such vile actions, turning him away from the entire world and its delinquent group of people, not that Justin wasn't one, himself.

The world, filled with cruel people and useless human mindsets, hated Justin almost as much as he hated himself. Bad things were constantly thrown his way, and although he probably deserved most of the actions that take place in his fucked up life, he listens too carefully. Justin bottles up all of the negative comments and energy placed around him, and he takes it out on himself, shutting himself up in his room for hours upon hours, shielding himself from the outside.

A long while ago, when Justin was first placed in foster care, he was okay with himself, maybe he even liked himself, but that phase is long gone now. Justin was adopted when he was 17-years-old, and maybe that's the reason he's so fucked up now; no one _really_ wants him.

He spent seven cruel years in the foster care system, watching children get picked up and find a new family, while he stayed and sat, his soul rotting slowly. When he finally did get picked up, it was nearly by force, and his new mother doesn't give more of a shit about him than his father did.

Justin's glossy eyes followed the rings of smoke around the room as they left his mouth, deteriorating into the air around him, making his vision fuzzy. He was shirtless, beads of sweat rolling down his very slim frame, his back rested against the cold wall that supported his small bed frame, his head thrown back.

Justin could feel the narcotic soothing his body slowly, causing him to let out a sigh of relief. Marijuana was one of the only things that ever made him feel good, content with himself. It was an indescribable feeling, and to say the least, Justin _thrived_ for it.

As he used the tip of his tongue to push more of the smoke out of his mouth in a waterfall fashion, loud knocks filled his ears, but he wasn't sure if he was actually hearing them or if they were all in his head. A small smirk lay lightly on his face as he blew out more of the toxic smoke, lifting his head slowly, immediately noticing the silhouetted figure in front of him.

He almost smiled, but like many other things in Justin's life, it failed to complete.

"Hey Justin," A wispy voice rang through his ears, melting his insides.

Lacey Gentry flicked her jet black hair behind her shoulder, curling one piece between her forefinger and her thumb. She bit her bottom lip, forcing a smile onto her face as she looked into Justin's reddened eyes.

"Lace," Justin mumbled, reaching out to stroke her velvety soft cheek. "What are you doing here?"

Lacey simply shrugged her shoulders, positioning herself on Justin's bed so that her head was rested upon his shoulder, a chaste kiss placed on his somewhat sticky neck. She ran her acrylic nails down his chest, sending goose-bumps down his belly, or what he had left of one.

"I just wanted to see you."

"Good," Justin's voice croaked out as he finished off the joint, "because I wanted to see you, too."

Lacey might have been the only thing good in Justin's life at the moment, and she might be the only good thing that'll ever occur, but he's glad it was her. He loved her green eyes and her black hair and her light pink lips that she outlined with dark liner; everything about her made him happy, and that's all he really wanted.

Justin turned only his head so he could see her, and he looked deep into her eyes, seeing nothing but admiration deep within them. "I love you," Justin whispered, lightly placing his lips upon hers, his large hand over her cheek. The strong smell of the narcotic he'd just inhaled left hints on his breath, but Lacey didn't mind; she was fairly used to it.

Lacey covered his hand with her own, almost laughing at the size difference.

Her laugh was angelic to Justin's ears, helping him when he needed her the most.

Lacey let a sigh escape her parted lips, her eyes locked with Justin's. She moved her hand down his chest, to his ribs (which slightly protruded outward), to his small, concave belly. Biting her lip, she grasped his veiny hand in her own and spoke deeply from the heart that she wished she possessed.

"I wish you'd stop," she croaked, "I don't like it when you do that to yourself."

"I know," Justin muttered, nodding his head. He knew she hated what he did to himself, the harm he'd caused, but he wasn't going to just stop, not without force being involved, anyways. Lacey knew this as well, but she didn't like speaking about it, mostly because she knew it was quite a sensitive subject for Justin.

"You're perfect, ya know?" Lacey whispered against his lips, a ghost of a smile forming on them.

"I'm not," Justin denied the compliment, "but thank you."

Lacey didn't push it any further, because it would probably end in an uncalled for argument, one she wasn't up for today. Justin pushed her hair behind her ears, nuzzling his head between the crook of her warm neck, breathing deeply.

"You're the perfect one."

"No, it's you."

_"No,"_ He'd continue to deny until he died, so there was really no use in trying to get him to see what she sees. So, she just reached out and stroked the soft skin of his face, watching as he closed his eyes and nestled his head to her hand, responding acutely to her touch.

"Mmm," He sighed deeply, moving closer to her so they were slightly cuddled up on his plush bed.

Sometimes Justin wondered what would happen if his foster mother, Sarah, walked in on them. What would she do? What would she say? But, that wasn't anything Justin too worried about, because the only time Sarah cared enough to check on him was, well, really never.

She left him to his own, which in a way he was grateful for, but he would also like to feel cared for; he'd like to feel like someone has enough heart to wonder if maybe he was in his room bleeding from both wrists, hanging from the ceiling by a rope that wrapped around his purple neck, his body swinging back and forth slowly.

That was the thing though, no one did care, except for Lacey, that is.

"Thank you," Justin told her sincerely, and she wasn't sure what for, but she didn't feel the need to ask, either.

Lacey simply smiled and reached over behind Justin, and she grabbed the materials she needed, setting them on the bedside table next to her. Justin watched closely as Lacey licked the blunt and began to roll it up, causing him to let out a throaty groan.

He'd always loved to see Lacey roll a blunt, and he didn't really have an explanation as to why.

He looked back over to her, and she was almost finished, as she was licking the blunt again and pressing it carefully together, and then she ran the flame of her lighter over it a few times before smiling slightly, handing it to Justin. He took the blunt from her, lighting it carefully before taking a long drag of the narcotic, his eyes rolling back in pleasure and relaxation.

"C'mere," Justin groaned, grasping Lacey's hips roughly and pulling her into him. She willingly climbed onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his skinny torso and resting her hands on the back of his neck. Justin ran his thumb lightly over her high cheek bone, leaving a small butterfly kiss on the spot that he'd touched.

"I love you," Justin's voice was crackly and so low that she barely heard it, but she did, and she smiled.

Justin then took an inhale of his blunt, his eyes slightly fluttering close, and he kept the smoke floating around in his mouth. Grasping the back of Lacey's head, he forcefully connected their lips together, and she smiled, adding more pressure to the kiss.

Justin bit Lacey's bottom lip, opening his mouth wider before blowing the smoke from his mouth to hers, catching her slightly by surprise. Lacey inhaled the narcotic, sighing slightly upon exhale, pushing herself closer to Justin.

He disconnected their lips for a brief moment to take another long drag, and then he connected their lips for the second time, blowing the smoke into her mouth yet again. They continued this pattern for a while, heavily making out whilst getting high in the same.

And, for once, Justin had forgotten the majority of his problems, focusing on the angel that sat perched up on his lap, their lips connecting lustfully, _beautifully._


End file.
